Fire and Ice
by Twisted Wonderland
Summary: When he took her captive, Jonathan Crane could hardly expect that she'd captivate him as she did. But, then again, ice melts in open flames. Crane x OC.
1. Cat and Mouse

**Fast facts**: We actually wrote this on Neopets – the first of many – but it was part of a plot that involved a Bruce x Alice pairing, not a Jonathan x Alice. We joked around about how they had chemistry, despite the whole 'threatening-fear-me' sort of scenario, but it was nothing more than that. This was also my first time playing Jonathan in our roleplay (before it had been Mary and I had played the Joker, but we switched characters).

**--Do I have to post a disclaimer at the beginning of every one of these? D: **

I do not own Jonathan Crane, although I like to think I have added to his character. DC has the rights to him, unfortunately. (I would steal him if I could. ;o; ) Ryn helped me with the lyrics for this one, because I couldn't figure out anything to use for it. She provided me with these, which I rather liked. :3 It's 'Surrender' by Evanescence. ALICE IS HER OWN PERSON. SHE BELONGS TO MARY. O I'm a meanie and stealing her because I'm a jerkfaise. :3 (And because this is a surprise for her, shhh.)

**Dedicated to** – Mary, of course. =D All of them will be dedicated to Mary-love. However, we apparently have fans of this pairing, so this is sorta for them too, so they can know the whole story.

Also, referring to the lyrics below, I like putting lyrics at the beginning of a passage like this. I think it helps set the tone of the chapter. O:

**Lyrics**: _Darling, there's no sense in running,_

_You know I will find you,_

_Everything is perfect now._

It'd been a long day. He'd been out "scouting" since morning, observing various places to gather toxins, or the raw materials, at least. No one could quite make the hallucigens the same as he was able. But he was always on the lookout for new componenets, particularly since it was growing ever more difficult to procure the elusive blue flowers he'd originally weaponized his toxin with.

Occupied as he was, Jonathan hardly noticed the girl as he rounded the corner. They collided, she stumbling backwards and he staggering in place. For a moment, the doctor was rather confused; as he was going to meet with the Joker, he was currently situated in an alley between several rather abandoned buildings. What was this girl doing here? She was rather small (although he was hardly a good judge for height), probably around 5'3" or 5'4", with curly black hair and brown eyes that seemed to view with apprehension… But not fear. Clearly she had no idea who he was.

Well, that would have to be changed.

Besides, he reasoned, this was no foolish venture. The girl was too close to their meeting place, and better he than the Joker deal with the problem. (While they had an alliance, it was a tense one; Jonathan hadn't forgotten his chair-based concussion.) "Good afternoon." He greeted lightly, although there was no way to eclipse the mocking tone in his voice. "It would seem that the little mouse can't find her way home?" That was what she reminded him of, bright-eyed and tiny.

Something alerted her instantly to his predatory intentions. Her eyes widened fractionally and he recognized that first familiar gleam of fear in her chocolate hues. "No." Was her tense reply. "I-I'm fine. Just taking a shortcut."

He stepped closer. "Ah, of course." One of his hands slid inside his jacket pocket, fingers curling over the comforting texture of his burlap mask. She tensed, her eyes focusing on his movement. "And are you sure you know where you're going?"

The bag began to withdraw from his pocket. Her eyes never left it – although he was sure she was expecting a knife or a gun of some kind – and she managed to squeak a reply. "Yes. I do. In fact, I think I'll go now." She ducked quickly around him and set off at a scurried pace. He waited a heartbeat, fishing the mask completely into view as he spoke.

"You can run," The doctor stated calmly, sure she could hear him. Her pace quickened. "But you can't hide." The burlap fell into place around his face, gas mask secure inside. Immediately he started hurrying after her. She seemed to move faster at the sound of his footfalls – he began to run. That was all it took to drive her into a sprint herself, but his longer legs easily overtook her. He darted in front and stopped abruptly, lifting his wrist to allow the toxin to spray out and overtake her. She was forced to halt, inhaling deeply against her will. Automatically she began to cough and wavered as the drugs took hold of her; he caught her lithe figure as she fell and waited.

Within seconds she was writhing in his arms, not fighting, just struggling. At first it was little squeals and shrieks of fear, but gradually they lapsed into actual words. "Bruce? Bruce! Hello? Anyone? W-Where is everyone? Bruce?!"

The Scarecrow smirked with triumph.


	2. Psychology and Circumstance

**Fast facts**: Continuation of other plot, when the plan is revealed to all. Also, this is when Mary and I really started making serious comments about their possibility as a pairing and eventually the following conversation happened:

Me: …I actually kind of like the idea of a Jon x Alice pairing.

Mary: …Me too. XD

Me: Glad I'm not the only one who thinks so. X3

Mary: We should do a roleplay for them. :o

AND THUS THE PAIRING WAS BORN. DUNDUNDUN.

(Also, I really wanted to write this in Alice's POV, but I RESISTED. RESISTRESISTRESIST.)

**Disclaimer – I don't own Jonathan Crane. I plan on asking Santa for him for Christmas, though.**

Also OMG, I know this took forever. D: I'm so sorry. I was going to have Mary write it, but we haven't been able to meet up as lately as we usually do. ;.; The next scene, however, she specifically requested, so Mary, if you're reading this, get your butt over here and write. You know what scene is next.

Just some random things to add – for the very select few who might've read this scene as it was roleplayed, know that this isn't word for word. Why? Because I have a highly fallible memory. I'm lucky that I remembered as much as I did. Bear with me, plz.

ON THE PLUS SIDE – this one is way longer. 8D Wh00t.

Lyrics this time are "Hotel California" by the Eagles.

**Lyrics**: _"Relax," said the night guard, "We are programmed to receive,_

_You can check out any time you like,_

_But you can never leave."_

Her eyes opened.

He stared down at her with a look that was probably filled with total arrogance and superiority – not that he tried for that, it just seemed to be his natural appearance, and was likely something to do with his eyes. Subjects were always afraid of his eyes. "Hello, Alice." The doctor purred in his sickly-sweet, 'I'm-a-psychiatrist-and-I'm-going-to-help' tone. "You've awakened far sooner than I had originally expected. You're quite a fighter, aren't you?"

A look of comprehension seemed to fall onto her face as she stared at him. Ah, there was the recognition he'd been looking for before, and now there was fear in her eyes as well, refusing to fade. Jonathan was immensely satisfied. "You remember who I am now, don't you?" He questioned,the conceit obvious in his tones. There was nothing quite like knowing that his presence alone was intimidating enough to put that fear in her eyes.

She nodded, and then seemed to find her voice. "Jonathan Crane." Came the hesitant whisper. More of that self-satisfaction, and his smirk grew broader still. A moment later, though, he recoiled it slightly – didn't want her thinking he was some proverbial Cheshire now, did he?

"Quite right. And I can't express how pleased I am that you recall my name. If you know it, then you likely know the sort of situation you're in right now." No response, other than a flash of her brown eyes across his face. In the next moment, after she'd satisfied herself with examining his aristocratic features, they went towards the walls around her. It was easy to tell what was going through her mind. She wanted out. "I am, of course, loathe to inform you that escape is an unlikely dream. And, psychologist I may be, I don't entertain dreams very often. Facts are far preferable."

"How'd you know my name?"

The question was very sudden and rather unexpected on the good doctor's part. Victims were not supposed to be bold and forthcoming. Victims were supposed to be quiet and sullen. Even when they were forward, they were angry. Something about Alice elicited the image of a person in perfect control. There was fear in her eyes, true, but there was something more as well, and it was unique to her, out of all of the others he'd seen before him. Except perhaps the Batman himself, of course.

But she was no vigilante, and he had nothing to fear from the diminutive female in front of him. His narrow digits pointed towards the door, which her eyes, in turn, landed upon. "You had a purse with you, Miss Fitch. And, with that, identification. There is little about you that has avoided my interest. Except…" At these words, his head tilted just slightly to the side, utter curiosity filling his cobalt eyes. "Except what a woman like you was doing in the middle of a disreputable part of town. A woman who clearly shouldn't have been."

Her eyes flashed. Anger was a good sign. It was the first step of deterioration. "That's none of your business."

Even as her tone became stilted, his was calm and even. "To the contrary. Now that you are here, you are exactly my business. And, if I were you, I would seek to keep it that way. Else, you become my partner's business. And no one likes being the Joker's business."

It irritated him beyond belief that the name of his clownish cohort brought about quicker dread than his own name had. It was plain to see in her eyes. He was the _master_ of fear. Although the citizens of Gotham ran the Joker's name as the "Prince of Crime", he was far from royalty and deserved no such similar treatment. Jonathan was a man who needed control. He needed it more than he needed air. And so, he sought to regain that by the only means possible – intimidation. "I'm quite sure Master Wayne is going to be more than a little sore when he finds his favorite maid missing from the kitchens." His smile was arrogant, but thin; although he could hardly know it now, the woman across from him would one day be able to look at that smirk and tell him his every thought. But not yet.

His comment surprised her, this time. It was apparent that the name hadn't shocked her, but knowing her residence and occupation had. Dr. Crane was back in control, and all was well. "How…?"

"The reactions of my fear toxin are all based on some level of the mind's psychology." He began with no hesitation, no inclination that he had to self-summarize. "It withdraws and extricates whatever you fear the most – but I probably didn't have to tell you that. What I do have to tell you, though, is that when you were incapacitated, you called out to a certain Bruce Wayne. Nothing too substantial, of course, but enough for us to look into who exactly you were. And enough for us to discover that you're worth enough to pose a ransom for."

Poor little Alice looked sick to her stomach. If he were not so accustomed to looks of horror on the faces of others, he might feel sorry for her. Maybe. But he had to give her credit where it was due – the girl had far more bearing than many of his subjects could compose. Although, of course, that didn't change his intentions in the least. It just made him intrigued. And that was a curse in itself.

It was her next movement, though, that was the most surprising. She lifted her head, locked her eyes with his, and boldly stared into them. "Bruce won't pay for me. I'm just his maid. Nothing more."

The words were brave, but paltry. She had guts. But she was also loading him with ammunition. "Your angst-filled cries would attest to otherwise. Unless you're the sort to whimper around behind a man like a sniveling dog?" Although she recoiled from his sharp, but satisfied, words, it wasn't hurt that boiled in her eyes – it was rage. _Good. Grow furious with me. Grow angry. It makes it far easier to rip your psyche apart piece by piece._

But in the next second it was gone, and she was staring at him with thinly-concealed interest. "What are you most afraid of, Dr. Crane?"

The addition of his title to his name pleased him, but her hopeful question would have to go unanswered. "You believe that I would tell you? After commanding complete control over you with your fears alone? Hardly."

Then she pouted. _Pouted_. Somehow, she managed to pout while still containing that fire that was beginning to blaze out of control behind her chocolate stare. "That's hardly fair, doctor. Don't tell me that you're so concerned for your being that you can't tell me something. After all, what could I possibly do to you?"

Well… That was true. There was nothing Alice Fitch could do to harm him. Besides, who said he had to be honest? "I suppose that answer would be fear in its very essence. 'We have seen the enemy, and he is us.' You must become your enemy to destroy him." Certainly a partial lie, but also true in its own right. Besides, it was clever, and Jonathan enjoyed being clever. "Satisfied?"

Her gaze darkened and she looked away from him, towards the wall. There was no need to probe any further – he would come back later, when she had a few more hours to stare at the blankness of the walls. That alone was enough to drive most insane. The doctor stood; he cast his critical gaze over her figure, before turning away from her. "You'll learn not to fall into rabbit holes one day, Miss Alice." And then he was gone.


End file.
